


As We Fall Apart

by Caroline_fangirl (BillCipherTriangle)



Series: Dream SMP Fics [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Betrayal, Character Death, Dream SMP Election, Explosives, Festival Alternate Ending, Manburg Festival, Minecraft, No Romance, Villain Wilbur Soot, no shipping just friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27111304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillCipherTriangle/pseuds/Caroline_fangirl
Summary: Alternate Ending Manburg Festival (Spoilers!)Wilbur wanted to go back. He craved his country, his friends, his family. If he could go back, he would. But something deep in his core, his very soul had broken, cracked under the pressure and pain. The pain he felt at losing everything he ever cared about. Now, with nothing left, he decided that Manburg deserves to fall apart with him. He wanted Tommy to join him, to stop fighting for the "right thing" and become the bad guy. Wilbur doesn't want to hurt his friend, but he will if he has to, anything to destroy what he's created.What side will Tommy choose?
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Dream SMP Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027716
Comments: 8
Kudos: 198





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As quarantine continues I've found myself addicted to the storyline, fanart, animatics of the Dream SMP. Shoutout to all the amazing steamers that make this Minecraft Roleplay possible (and their improv acting skills). So here I am, with a two-part short story to the Manburg Festival, full of Angst and Betrayals, so be warned. Spoilers ahead for the Dream SMP Election and Festival arcs. 
> 
> Also, no shipping people and no hate against the streamers please.

Wilbur tugged on the beanie in his hair, keeping it in place against the breeze that threatened to rip it from him. His heart hammered in his chest, staring down from the roof of an old building at the throne that had been built for the new president. 

Carved of black stone bricks and magma blocks, Schlatt’s new throne seemed like something straight out of a terrible movie. The more Wilbur looked at the large flags, the giant initials of the president dug into the stone, and waterfalls falling from the stage the more he wanted to destroy it all. It didn’t belong there. None of this did.

As much as he hated to admit it, Schlatt was technically democratically elected, although through a questionable backdoor deal. Wilbur wasn’t in the room where it happened. The people had chosen the coalition government, and there wasn’t a single fucking thing he could do about it. 

A war. The war for L’manburg, the country that Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, Fundy, and Niki wanted to see become a reality. The violence of the first war looped through his head, the blood spilled within their walls, by the hot dog stand. The forest fire started by Sapnap that killed the forest and all the animals nearby, and the explosions that made his ears ring, all set up by Dream himself. 

Wilbur and Tommy fought tooth and nail to gain independence from Dream and his team, giving up the music disks and everything. But now, it was like none of it meant anything at all. 

The country he’d fought for turned it’s back on him. And now he’d do the same. He clenched his fist, narrowing his eyes upon the place where he’d set the trap. His blood boiled, heart dancing with anticipation, excitement. He was going to do it. No matter what, no matter who got in his way. 

Hell, even if Tommy… 

Wilbur didn’t want to hurt his right-hand man, seated at his side. But if he had to, if it came down to hurting Tommy and blowing up Manburg, he had to leave his friend behind. Yes, it would hurt, but everything hurt. 

Everything hurt so fucking much, and he’d cracked. He was too far gone. 

A hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts. “Wilbur, we need to leave, they can see you from here. We can’t be killed here,” Tommy said, urging him in the other direction. But Wilbur shrugged him off, pushing the smaller hand off his shoulder. 

He shook his head, a dark laugh escaping his lips. “Fuck it. Let them see us, Tommy. It doesn’t matter. So what if we’re outlaws? What are they going to do? Kill us again?” Wilbur clicked his tongue, turning to face his friend. 

Tommy’s eyes were wide, face paler than normal, but the determination to do what was morally right was lit in his gaze like a fire. He wasn’t giving in. Were they going to have to fight after all? 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Even if we can respawn, it still hurts, we still suffer even afterward. Wilbur, come on. This isn’t right and you know it. We can get the city back a different way. Tubbo is Schlatt’s right-hand man, he might be able to set a meeting up.” 

Wilbur rolled his eyes, pointing to the stage. “Does that look like a man willing to talk us back into power? No. That is our reality. He wants to keep his power, that’s why we were thrown out.”    
  


He stepped towards the edge of the roof, scanning the festival crowd. People were taking their seats along a long red carpet, made just for the president to walk on. Around the walkway, the lawn had been filled with a variety of stands and games. A boxing rink, a dance floor, an ice-skating rink. There were even chests filled with food and drink around the tables. 

And they weren’t even invited. To a festival in the country they’d created, shed blood and their lives for. Wilbur still had nightmares. 

  
  


_ The arrow poked out of Tommy’s pale skin, straight in the heart, as blood poured from the wound. Wilbur held his friend’s dying body in his arms, tears pricking his eyes and blurring his vision. He could hear the raspy breath of a dying boy, suffering as the life drained from him. The result of a failed duel, they’d lost, and Tommy would have to hand everything over to Dream.  _

_ Tommy’s blue eyes faded, the light leaving them, and Wilbur’s cheeks stained with tears and blood. Tommy’s body began to flicker and fade, disappearing as he respawned. Wilbur stood, glaring at the smiling mask before him, the green hood pulled over Dream’s hair. The man turned from him, stepping away from the bridge.  _

  
  
  


“Wilbur we can’t. There are so many people down there, and we’re not Techno or Dream. We’re not PvP masters. We’ll die over and over if we try to join in or if they see us and suspect something is wrong. Forget your TNT and button, please. Let’s go,” Tommy begged, tugging on Wilbur’s arm and heart. 

Wilbur wanted to go back. If he could, he would, but something in his core, his very soul had broken. The pain in his chest almost made him reconsider, but he knew all the pain he felt was because everything he’d done so far had led to nothing. The war was all for nothing. Frustration boiled his skin and bones, pushing him deeper into his unstable state. 

“No!” Wilbur growled, shoving Tommy back. “You don’t understand. Do you not feel the pain, Tommy? How do you not get it? If we can’t be a part of our country with our friends, then nobody can! I’m going to blow this motherfucker to smithereens. Stop fighting me on this, Tommy. Or you’re going to feel your sins crawling on your back.” Rage filled his bones, digging into the depths of his burning chest. “I will kill you if you step in my way. Join me or back down, NOW!”

His friend’s eyes hardened, narrowing as they stared each other down. The breeze tugged at their coats, blowing through them. Tommy’s eyes eventually softened, gaze fixed on the ground, silent. 

What would he choose? The side he was meant to? Or the side that would put more blood on Wilbur’s hands. Either way, it wouldn’t stop anything. 

“Wilbur, I signed on as your right-hand man for the War and the Election, but not for this. Not to destroy everything. I don’t want to turn on you, we’re friends. I care about you. I don’t like seeing you insane and hurt like this,” Tommy said, running a hand through blond locks. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. 

Wilbur waited, glancing down at the gathering crowd of their friends, but they couldn’t join because no matter what, they were outcasts. 

“I won’t stop you, but I won’t help you,” Tommy responded, his voice low, a whisper almost lost in the wind. 

Wilbur raised his arms, laughing as he stepped closer to the edge of the roof, eyes fixed upon the stage where Schlatt and Tubbo stood. “You see that throne? He doesn’t deserve that. He wants power, no matter what. And that’s why I spent hours rigging this entire area with bombs. Dream provided me with a few stacks, each of which went under the stage, the red carpet, and the field with the festivities.”

His finger followed the line, imagining the red stacks, ready to catch fire and connected by a line of Redstone. Wilbur grinned turning to Tommy. “I’m glad you’ve decided not to stand against me. I really didn’t want to hurt you.” He stared down at his hands, the wrinkles in his fingers and palms. Wilbur knew they’d be dripping with the warm blood of everyone at the festival but he didn’t want Tubbo’s or Tommy’s blood staining them. 

“Whatever,” Tommy muttered bitterly, turning away from him and gazing at Tubbo on the stage. “Don’t hurt him.” 

“I won’t. I promise. He and the White House are spared from destruction,” Wilbur said. 

Schlatt turned to face his audience, taking a seat in his throne and crossing his legs, leaning against the armrest. His red eyes lifted, starting directly into Wilbur’s gaze, a dark smirk forming on his lips. His gaze shifted quickly back unto the crowd, horns swiveling with his head. 

Wilbur’s stomach flipped with nervousness and fear, anger subsiding in the wake of the new emotions coursing through him.  _ Fuck. He has something bad planned.  _ Schlatt knew they were here and didn’t care. He didn’t send anyone, didn’t say anything. He wanted them to watch whatever show he had planned. 

But Schlatt didn’t know of the TNT, Wilbur was sure of that. He was a smart president, he knew Tommy and him could attack, but didn’t suspect the fact that they would risk their entire country and other friends' lives. 

Schlatt tapped against the microphone testing it, leaning forward from his throne. “Hello! Welcome, all, thanks for coming out here. In our great nation of Manburg, we hold festivals. Let this be our first celebration of democracy, of triumph from tyranny. As you can see, my right-hand here, has set up some -- what are these, fucking carnival games?” He paused, flipping his hand nonchalantly at the activities in the field below. 

“Ah whatever the fuck you want to call them, doesn’t matter. What matters is the fun we’ll all have here tonight. With the exception of the two who shall not be named,” Schlatt said, gaze flicking for a split second to the roof where Wilbur and Tommy stood, crouched. 

“Now, I’d like to hand the mic over to Tubbo. He’s the only one who does some honest fucking work on this country. Why can’t more of you be like him, eh?” Schlatt handed the microphone over to Tubbo. “Get your shit together, bitches,” he muttered, the words picked up but barely. 

Tubbo shifted on his feet, standing next to the throne. His brown hair ruffled in the wind, glancing uneasily between Schlatt and the crowd below. 

He opened his mouth and began to read off a small notecard, his speech beginning. Wilbur stood, heart racing as he prepared to hear those four words. Four words and he would run. Run all the way to the hill and blow up Manburg. 

“Schlatt has successfully washed all of the insects off our great nation. And with that, he’s allowed the goodness and tastiness to shine through. Everyone look around at what we’ve built, at each other. All of this under the leadership of J. Schlatt, thanks to democracy,” Tubbo spoke clearly to the audience, his voice steadying as he continued. 

Wilbur clenched his hands into fists, shaking his head as anger leaked through. He wanted to scream, to argue, but he clamped his jaw shut. No. Schlatt had gotten rid of the two more important people to the country, and Wilbur had had enough of democracy. Democracy failed when they needed it most. It was time to destroy it all. 

“Let the festival begin!” Tubbo said. 

Now! Wilbur felt his legs move as the first words slipped from his friend’s mouth on stage. He jumped, racing down the steps, his heart pounding. Get to the button. Get to the button. Behind the hill. His thoughts flew, his only objective was to get to the TNT and leave it all in ashes. 

It took him a moment to register the other sound in his ears and he froze, ice filling his veins. 

Schlatt was laughing. A dark sound resonated from his chest and filled the speakers around the stage. The chuckle rose, and he began to speak. “Tubbo, oh Tubbo.” 

Wilbur turned to find his friend being boxed in with rope and a fence, pinned like cattle. Schlatt had tied him up to the fence, a dark glint in his eyes, ears twitching. 

“I um, can’t get out?” Tubbo said, confused. 

“I know what you’ve been up to. I don’t know if you know this, but treason isn’t exactly, uh respectable thing around here. It all adds up,” Schlatt started, walking in circles around him, hand extended. “The fucking tunnels, your absence.” 

Wilbur wanted to scream, tears filling his eyes. Of course, Schlatt knew. Why had they not seen this coming? He was a smart, powerful man. There was no hiding under his watchful Presidency. 

But the button still called to him, and as much as he didn’t want to hurt Tubbo, he had too. This was his one chance to set everything right. And so Wilbur ran, he ran while Schlatt continued his speech, desperately searching for the panic room he set up. 

“I see it with my own two fucking eyes!” Schlatt growled. “Do you know what happens to traitors?” 

“No?” Tubbo’s voice shook with fear at what he was implying. 

“Nothing good.” Schlatt paused. “Technoblade, will you come up here? Get up here. Yeah!” 

Tubbo must’ve realized finally what was going to happen, because he began screaming, crying. “No no. Listen, Mr. President, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m on your side, please!” 

“Technoblade, I’d like you to kill him. We’re on a tight schedule here,” Schlatt pushed, voice raising. ‘Right here, on this fucking stage!”

No. No. Wilbur broke the rocks, searching for the room. Come on! He only had one chance here. Techno wouldn’t kill him, would he?

“Wilbur rigged this place with TNT!” Tubbo shouted, voice loud, desperate for Schlatt to spare his life. 

“What?” Schlatt yelled, pausing to collect himself. 

“He’s placed it all under Manburg, we have to run! Everyone run!” Tubbo screamed. “Please, Schlatt, save yourself. Hurry!” 

_ No. NO!  _ Tears filled Wilbur’s eyes. Tubbo had given them away, had betrayed them. He betrayed Pogtopia to save himself. Why? Pain shot through his chest as he dug through rocks, finally finding his room. 

“Tubbo why?” Wilbur muttered, his vision blurring and heart pounding. “Why would you do this to us? You were on our side.” The button stood in front of him, enticing him with destruction. He could end everything. Right here and now. 

He gripped his jacked above his heart, screaming in pain as his head hurt. Why? Why? When did everything he cared about go so wrong? 

Slowly his heart began to harden, shifting into stone and ice as his vision cleared. He stared at the button, clenching his jaw set. His hand hesitated over the button. 

“Oh, Wilbur!” Schlatt called for him. 

Shit. 


	2. Chapter 2

Wilbur's fingers itched over the button. Why was he hesitating? Why? He’d swore to hit the trigger as soon as he saw it, but now he couldn’t. He squeezed his eyes, shutting out Schlatt’s voice. No, he couldn’t sit here and think. He had to do it, even if Tubbo and Tommy were in the way. 

Pushing down the rumblings left in his gut, he shook his head. “I’m sorry.” He swore whatever happened, Manburg was going to blow up today, at the festival. And he couldn’t go back on his word, not when Dream had let him borrow the stacks of TNT. 

“Goodbye, L’manburg.” Wilbur hummed the anthem. Tears slipped down his cheeks, and in that moment he wished he could’ve borrowed Dream’s mask too, for the sole purpose of hiding his emotions. Pain shot through his chest. It was time. 

His heart pounded in his ears. He turned his head away.

And slammed his hand against the button. 

Silence. For a split second there was nothing but darkness.

And then a bright light flashed, the loud boom echoing off the wall of the room as the shockwaves shoved Wilbur to the ground. Rocks shooks and shattered, a chain echo released all the TNT, all the destruction. 

Pain exploded across his back and legs, white-hot pain, and he knew he was badly injured. He couldn’t move, couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. His ears rang with a high-pitched sound, the screams of others behind the hill so muffled he could barely understand them. 

But the screams he did hear where Tubbo’s and Tommy’s, both caught in the crossfire. Tears fell from his shut eyes, imagining his friends in the state he was, both in pain and blood smearing the festival lawn. 

This was what he wanted right? The utter loss of Manburg, with nothing left. Nothing but rubble and ash. 

The fires crackling around him seemed to laugh, their voices teasing him for what he did. No. No. Wilbur had done what was right, he was sure of it. 

Then why did this feel so _wrong?_ If this was his job, his final mission as the former President of L’manburg, then why was he so upset? Why didn’t this make him happy?

He shivered as he felt his body start to lose life and flicker out. He’d respawn, just like everyone else, but the destruction and blood would still be there, staining the SMP server. Even if they rebuilt it, the memories would be locked here, and people would remember the day Wilbur blew it all to the ground. 

Wilbur closed his eyes, letting the cold, cruelty of death take his soul and body. He’d be back. 

_I did it, Tommy. L’manburg is no more._

_I’m sorry._

  
  


\-----

Birds tweeted outside, the trees rustled in the wind. He was warm, covered in a blanket, and snuggled into a pillow. Home. He was home. But where was home? Something felt wrong, off, and he couldn’t understand why. 

He didn’t want to fully wake up, but an ugly feeling tugged at him, scratching and begging him to get up. He couldn’t ignore it, as it got more intense with each second. He became more and more aware of his surroundings and memories. 

Wilbur gasped, sitting up. Pain shot through his legs, white-hot and he clenched his jaw shut. He focused on the tiny room he was in. Pogtopia. He was in bed. 

His respawn point was still set here. Was Tommy’s as well? He searched for his friend, to find a way to apologize, but he wasn’t here. Tommy had died first, which meant he respawned first. He probably raced right back to the festival. 

Wilbur pushed the blankets aside, ignoring the phantom pain waves rolling through his protesting body from his last death. Death wasn’t permanent here, but it hurt like hell, even after respawning you could feel the pain of your last death for up to a few days afterwards. 

He clamped his jaw shut, the room spinning. He needed a healing potion, something to clear the pain and his fogging brain, but since they were banished, they had barely anything. Dream might have one but Wilbur had no clue where the other man even was, and didn’t have the time to look or care. 

No, he had to go find Tommy and take on Schlatt. The President was furious with him, but maybe he’d back down knowing the firepower that Wilbur owned. Wilbur could destroy faster than Schlatt or Quackity could rebuild. If he could get them to surrender, all this nonsense would stop. No more Manburg, no more wars, no more elections. 

Chaos could reign. Every man for himself. Techno would like that. And maybe in the ashes of their world Dream could stand up as the technical rightful ruler. Wilbur had no fucking clue what could happen next, but he had to get back to the ruins. 

  
  


~~~~~~~

Tommy hated dying. It was painful, and for a boy of only sixteen, he’d died too many times over the past month in the war and now in Schlatt’s presidency. For fuck’s sake he just wanted to live. But no, he’d keep dying over and over, screwed by friends and enemies alike.

First Wilbur and now Tubbo? What happened to his friends? To his world that he loved so much? Wilbur went crazy and Tubbo betrayed them for Schlatt. 

The horse’s feet clopped against the grass and stone, dodging through trees and bringing him back to the ruins of L’manburg. The wind flew through his hair. He leaned against the horse’s neck, the pain of his last death still sharp. The explosions had torn his body apart, and now a migraine ripped through his head, threatening to explode his brain again. 

But Tommy had gotten used to death. To the pain after respawn. Dream had killed him during their duel and that pain lasted over a week. He was sure to feel the pain of this one for a few days, but he couldn’t afford to sit around. He had to talk to Tubbo, to scream at his friend, to say his catchphrase. 

Because Tubbo had indeed fucked up. He fucked everything by choosing the goat over the pig. Techno wouldn’t have hurt him, right? Techno would’ve saved Tubbo had he not caved to Schlatt. And Wilbur wouldn’t have needed to blow up their land. 

Tommy felt angry tears pricking his vision, jaw clamped shut from the pain. He gripped the horse tight, urging the animal forward as rain began to fall, drenching him and his clothes. At least it hid his tears. 

The horse stopped where the festival had been, just before all the crumbled rocks and dust. Fires still burned along a few of the remaining grasses and trees. The buildings were gone. Schlatt’s stage and the red carpet were gone. The surrounding buildings, including the one Tommy and Wilbur had been standing on not more than a few hours ago, were gone. Everything. The games, the stands, the chests. 

The flag of Manburg stood, but that’s because Schlatt had it built from obsidian, which couldn’t be broken by TNT, as if he knew. But it was the only thing that remained from the center of Manburg. 

Tommy slid off his horse, staring at the destruction with wide-eyes, his legs shaking and barely holding his own weight. It was gone. Everything they’d built. The land that had once been theirs was just a hole of rocks and fire. Tears fell down his cheeks, sobs shaking his whole body. 

“Wilbur, why? I told you not to do this,” Tommy murmured. 

“But he did,” a quiet voice coughed from behind him. 

Tommy twisted to see Tubbo, tired and wet from the pouring rain, leaning against the flagpole. He stepped closer as Tommy stared at the traitor in shock. His heart clenched in his chest, adding to the pain in his head and chest. He made a fist, his hands shaking. 

“Why? Why Tubbo? You were our spy on the inside, not Schlatt’s. But you chose him over us, over me. Tell me why the fuck you sided with him!” Tommy screamed, the rain and wind causing the sound to be smaller than it was. Anger boiled in his veins as he stared at his friend. “We were going to fix things. We were going to save all this destruction. We could’ve run away together, but you chose him.” 

Tubbo shifted on his feet, refusing to meet Tommy’s eyes. His own cheeks were stained with tears and dirt. “I didn’t want to! You don’t understand, please forgive me. I was scared on that stage. I hate dying, it hurts so fucking much.” 

“I hate dying too! But Tubbo you choose friends over death, not the other way around. You fucked up, Big T. I can’t believe you would do that. Tell me our friendship still means something!” Tommy cried out, tears mixing with the rain. He didn’t like crying in front of his friends, it made him feel younger, like an actual child. But Tubbo was his closest friend, chosen the President over him. 

“I…” Tubbo had no answer for Tommy, could barely speak. 

That’s when Tommy noticed something. In the flash of lightning something reflected off the top of Tubbo’s hair. He stepped closer to his friend, squinting in the low light. “What… are those?” His voice was soft, a whisper in the rain. 

Tubbo flinched, stepping back and covering his head with his arms. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” 

“No. No, I think that was something. What are you hiding?” Tommy twisted behind him, trying to catch him off guard. “Stop lying to me.” 

“Yeah, stop fucking lying to him, Tubbo. You know the truth,” Schlatt’s voice echoed nearby, causing Tommy’s heart to jump into his throat. 

The President stepped up behind Tubbo, seemingly as if he’d never died during the explosion. His composure was the same as before. Any pain he might’ve felt from death wasn’t showing in his eyes or expression. A grin sat on his face as he placed a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder. 

“Go on, show him, Tubbo. Show him your fucking loyalty to me,” Schaltt urged. 

Tubbo shifted on his feet, lowering his hands and rubbing his arm. “Tommy I’m so sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t want this to happen, but he found out. He found out I was the spy and I didn’t want to die. I want to be on the winning team, and you and Wilbur are losing. He destroyed everything. It’s all gone!” 

Tommy’s eyes raised to the top of Tubbo’s head, where two small brown horns were growing in, matching Schlatt’s. Pain shot through his chest as his stomach churned at the meaning behind them. Tubbo was Schlatt’s right hand, both in name and in appearance. No longer was he the spy. 

Tommy shook his head, stepping back. “No. No. How…” 

“You see, he’s my right-hand. Trustworthy and honest. Sorry, Tommy. But, I think you’re trespassing on our land. And I banished you, didn’t I?” Schlatt waved him off the land. “I won’t have to pit Tubbo against you, right? You’ll leave on your own.” 

“He’s not going anywhere. Manburg is no more, Schlatt. You can step down as President,” Wilbur’s voice spoke from Tommy’s right, the taller man stepping in front of him. 

\-----

Wilbur expected to find Tommy at the ruins of Manburg, but he didn’t expect Schlatt to still be protecting the destroyed land. It didn’t matter. What mattered is that his plan was going to work. The country was no more, Schlatt couldn’t be President. 

The rain spilled over his hair, the curls falling partially over his eyes, but he could still see clearly enough to make out the others in front of him. Tommy’s blond hair seemed much darker when wet, but still noticeable. 

Wilbur’s stomach churned with guilt, making him sick and the pain stabbed through his legs once more. He tried to hide it, keep it off his expression as he walked forward. He knew that if he looked at his hands, he’d see the blood of his friends. He hadn’t wanted to kill them.The holes in the ground and the buildings gone left Wilbur with a dark, empty hole in his chest. His country was gone. Everything that they’d built together was gone, and he couldn’t stand the sight of the remains. 

He stepped in front of Tommy, eyes locking onto Schlatt. “Step down as President. Your country is gone. I destroyed it. I fucking blew it up like I promised. Now leave.” 

Schlatt’s dark red eyes met his own, silently digging into his mind. He chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t think so Wilbur. I don’t think I will. Ya see, the people elected me. ME. They didn’t fucking elect you, and what did you do? Blew up their city? What problem was that going to fix eh? What fucking problem?”

He stepped forward, and Wilbur instinctively put his arm out to block Tommy from moving. He had to protect his friend. It was the least he could do after killing him. 

"They didn't elect you. They elected me and you won because of a backroom deal. I wasn't in the room where it happened. The citizens didn't want you, just admit that and step down. Your country is gone and I'll blow it up if you even think of rebuilding," Wilbur said, voice as steady and low as he could keep it. He was serious, and he wanted Schlatt to face the facts. 

Instead he simply laughed and shook his head. "No, Wilbur, you're the bad guy here." He pointed at him, voice raising. "You agreed to our decision to put our votes together. Then you went and fucking ruined everything. Nobody will trust you ever again. You're never going to be President, Wilbur." He paused and glanced off to his left. 

"No, but I can!" A familiar female voice spoke up, moving away from her hiding spot and over to Wilbur. "I'm a proud citizen of L'manberg and I never wanted you to be President. I never wanted to be here!"

Wilbur turned, his eyes widened as he spotted Niki, walking towards him. She grabbed his hand, standing her ground against Schlatt for the first time since the Election. 

The President glared at her, eyes narrowing. His fingers twitched as he tried to hold back the anger forming in his expression. "Fine. Fine! I don't care about you. If you want to leave so bad then leave. Go with them. Fucking leave then." 

Niki's hand was warm in his against the cold rain. She was a friend through and through and Wilbur knew they could trust her. After all she stood up against the President and got herself kicked out just to save them, to help them. Niki wasn't as strong of a fighter but she'd shown her bravery here and Wilbur's chest swelled with pride and hope. They could do this. 

"Leave. All of you," Schlatt yelled, and then paused, a grin forming in his lips. "Actually, Wilbur, someone wants to speak with you."

A flash of orange peaked out through the bushes as someone climbed the hill towards them. Wilbur dropped Niki's hand, his hand flying over his mouth to stop the screams and the tears. His heart dropped and this throat squeezed and burned as he struggled to breathe. His son.

Fundy stood next to Schlatt, one of his ears and arms bleeding from the explosions. He hadn't died in the explosion and wasn't injured enough to die, but it hurt Wilbur to see his son all torn up from something he'd done. He reached his hand out to him, shaking his head. He hadn't meant to hurt him. He hadn't. He just wanted to…

He wanted to destroy Manburg… but it was never the right thing to do was it? He was the bad guy. A terrible father, to hurt his own friends and son in the crossfire. 

  
  


"I… Fundy, you have to believe me I never meant to-" Wilbur croaked out, voice stuck. 

"You did. You wanted your power so badly you'd hurt others to get it. You're no better than the man you claim Schlatt to be." Fundy shook his head, disapproving. "Let's go, Tubbo. We have work to do."

Tubbo hesitated, his eyes fixed between Wilbur and Tommy. Wilbur refused to acknowledge the traitor, his heart and mind preoccupied on his son's words that echoed in his mind. 

_I'm so sorry. I thought… I thought this was the right thing. That my plan would work. But now I've made everything worse._ Wilbur knew Tommy was right. He always was. He should've stepped down all those times that Tommy pleaded with him. 

Wilbur fell to his knees, his legs unable to hold his weight as he watched through his tears. Tubbo and Fundy disappeared, Schlatt hesitated, as if to torment them more, but decided against it, and walked away as calmly as he'd entered the scene. Wilbur had made a mistake. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and curled into himself, letting the rain spill from his shoulders. 

"So you did it after all," a voice sounded from behind the three remaining members of Pogtopia. A man in a green hoodie and a smiling mask stood, arms crossed as he surveyed the damage done to the festival. "What a shame though. I liked L'manburg." 

"Shut up, Dream," Tommy muttered, clearly not in the mood to handle him. 

Wilbur didn't want to get up, he didn't want to do anything. His whole body shook, even when Niki kneeled down to comfort him, he couldn't speak. 

"Did we win?" Another voice said, as someone fell down from the sky, holding a shiny trident. "All I know was there was a whole bunch of chaos and I loved it!" His pink hair flowed behind him with his red cape, the rain not bothering him. "I didn't die either. What a good day." He grinned. 

Techno. Still as chaotic and awesome as ever, still on their side, presumably. He fixed his crown and stared at the damage and then at Wilbur. 

"Hey, it's alright. You did your job," Techno said, holding a hand out to Wilbur. 

Wilbur almost refused, hesitating as his insides crumbled. He just wanted to sleep, to cry. His plan had failed, Schlatt won, Tubbo betrayed them, and his son hated him. When did everything go so wrong? He winced as he grasped Techno's hand and let himself get pulled to his feet. 

"Where are we gonna to go? Tubbo knows how to get to Pogtopia," Tommy pointed out, glancing between Wilbur and Techno. 

"I have another base," Dream said. "It's not too far from here and should have room for all of us."

Techno pouted at the idea of staying with him, but didn't complain. "As long as I can have my potatoes."

That brought a smile to Wilbur's face, and he pat his friend's back. "You can have all the potatoes you want." 

"Oh thank goodness!" 

Tommy laughed and held out a fist in front of him. "Potato friends?"

One by one the small group put their fist in a circle, even Dream did. 

Wilbur felt his heart swell with hope, staring between Tommy and Niki. His two closest friends were still here, despite Tubbo's betrayal. There was still time to get L'manburg back. He didn't want to stop fighting, not now, not ever. As long as he had Tommy he was going to get his country back. They may have lost the battle of the Festival, but not the war. 

He grinned and nodded, putting his hand in. 

"Potato friends!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! It's my first time writing fic for this fandom and I hope you guys liked it. I'll have some more in the works as I continue to watch the streams. 
> 
> Just a reminder that this is all a Minecraft roleplay and I took the characters from the roleplay not their irl personalities. So no hate on the streamers please!


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